’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. . "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled. Very glad. She would not forgive me. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now. Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation.
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